Human Tears
by mysterious advisor
Summary: The Duchess of Kiev, Viscountess of Odessa never cries! Something short and rather strange. R&R please...


I don't own Trinity Blood...

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Although her blood boiled with anger, her features remained as still as a block of ice. Amber eyes scanned over the entire hall, taking in the sight of a thousand noble-blooded Methuselah. Each and every one of the vampires was dressed in extremely expensive materials, most even wearing gold and silver strands. Rubies, sapphires and diamonds glowed brightly in the light, among so many other precious accessories, pointing the exact level of welfare their Empire had.

"Viscountess of Odessa." A small voice made the proud woman break her glare and turn around, to her Empress. Her rather short and seemingly childish frame was hidden among numerous layers of dark green lace, while her short black hair was adorned with expensive stones that matched beautifully her emerald eyes.

Those would consider the Child Empress just a little girl were the greatest fools in the entire Universe. In spite of her strange appearance, she was capable of dealing by herself with the Methuselah world and its enemies. The Vatican's Cardinals together weren't as powerful as her or as wise. The treaty with the humans had been sealed with blood: a dirty act… _'Dirty, yet necessary…'_

"Yes, Your Majesty." The Viscountess bowed her head, thus earning several sounds from the jewels clung to her clothes.

"I will be alright while my guards are here. You should mingle with the other guests." Augusta Vradica spoke, a smile present on her lips. Astarothe's eyebrows furrowed, as her eyes turned icy one again. Instinctively, she wanted to grab her long weapon, but immediately remembered that she was in the middle of a ball, and not a war… and that meant her spear was waiting in the armoury, back at her summer residence.

"Your protection is my job, Your Majesty." She answered mechanically, hoping that she will be allowed to remain away from the crowd.

"Duchess…" the Empress turned serious, while her eyes were staring directly at the tall blonde woman. Astarothe knew perfectly well what that meant: a close ultimatum. If she were to refuse, then she would probably be forbidden to even enter the Palace for several months.

"Yes, Your Majesty." She calmly accepted with another bow and climbed down the palace's steps, walking towards the crowded area. She seemed taken away from the world and yet, her amber eyes were frozen and her beautiful features twisted in a much too serious expression.

"_Suleyman… Tigris…"_ her treacherous mind whispered at the back of her mind. The last time she had attended a ball, she had done it only to see him and have him close. That night had been nearly a magical one. They had talked and even danced, entrapping all the guests' attention and surprising even the Empress. At that time, no one had even suspected the great Duke of treason. And now… now the bare whisper of his name was severely punished. All those who stood in the Child Empress' way were damned to a life in hell and a death in humiliation… the greatest punishment possible for a Methuselah. And that had been the exact same reason for which she had killed him, before anyone even understood that he had attacked the vampire queen. Ironically enough, he had missed his shot… but she hadn't…

'_I don't think I would've managed to see you otherwise than the way I was used to. You were a great noble… the only one I considered fit to receive my feelings… love is such a profitless affair… it lacks any good result and still, we sign ourselves up for the ride before we even know.'_ Her thoughts chuckled darkly as she caught glimpses of the last gossip in Byzantium.

Barely acknowledging the salutes she was offered, she passed through the way offered by the divided crowd, not minding the men's lustful gazes or the women's invidious glares. In complete silence, she crossed the ballroom and exited on one of the rich balconies, deciding that the moonlight was much better than any artificial ray. Her anger had faded away, and its remains had now turned into a dark sadness… melancholy was the exact name of that "human" feeling…

"Thank you." A voice was heard right behind her, away from the madness within those old and indestructible walls. She remained still, as the wind softly played with her fair locks and moved her long braided strands over the blue and silver materials beautifully embracing her body. "I must apologize for the hardships I have given you during the period Father Nightroad, Sister Esther and I were left in your care. It is barely now that I understand my mistakes and I must ask you to forgive us… me…" the voice ended its speech.

Astarothe Athrun finally turned around and stared at the young vampire in front of her. Short strands of light blonde hair covered his head and crimson orbs looked determinedly back at her. In spite of his seemingly weak body, the Methuselah several steps away from her had more than enough strength inside of him, both physical and mental. _'Strong… and stubborn as hell…'_ her thoughts concluded.

"I forgave you long ago." She simply answered, a faraway look inside her amber eyes. Slowly, she turned her back at the boy who had grown enough to be a young man.

"But…" he began on a tone that reminded the Viscountess of herself. Biting back all of her emotions, she raised her voice a bit… but just enough…

"You are awaited inside! … tovaras…" the last part was let out almost as a whisper. Still, by the way the young vampire's heartbeats sped up, she could tell that he had heard her loud and clear. But she didn't turn around again, for she knew she wouldn't resist those crimson eyes gazing up at her.

"Thank you…" he bowed sharply and nearly ran into the tremendous hall. The music filled Astarothe's mind, but only after she heard the Duchess of Moldova's words towards the young Earl of Memphis: "Come, my boy."

As the wind intensified, partly ruining her perfect tire and making that dark red strand visible against her light bangs, a single tears found its way down the Viscountess' left cheek.

'_We are Methuselah… Human emotions mean nothing to us, for we are the strongest creatures to walk down on Terra's ground… nothing…'

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"Do you believe he will ever discover?" a beautiful blonde woman asked as she let go of the baby she had been carrying until then, a sleeping child tucked into a beautiful white coat, with the Odessa herald sewed on the expensive material.

"He will." The other female smiled, as her arms carefully received the precious burden, offering it her warmth and protection. "At the right time, you will tell him yourself." Mirka Fortuna looked up at the woman who resembled her in a stunning amount. For the first time in a lifetime, Astarothe Athrun's beautiful features actually expressed visible emotions: love, fear, desire… Her amber eyes were gazing down at the newborn vampire, her soul shattering into more and more fragments with each passing second. "I will take care of him just as I did with you." The elder Methuselah reassured her and proceeded back towards the expensive carriage that waited for them.

As if feeling the battling souls around him, the child stirred awake from his sleep and opened up his eyes, allowing the world to see his crimson orbs, almost a clear evidence of his lineage, as well as the fair strands covering his head. Not sensing the right person anymore, the baby let out a strong wail, forcing his new caretaker to gently hush him and take him faster inside the carriage.

It wasn't until the horses completely disappeared from her sight, that she fell on her knees and broke down in painful sobs, her eyes drowning in tears… human tears…

'_I haven't cried in such a long time…'

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I don't know about the rest of you Trinity Blood fans out there, but my friends and I have always noticed this striking resemblance between Astarothe and Ion. So, if you don't agree with the theory, please don't flame me :P But still, if you insist, I wouldn't mind you writing a review ;)


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